


Beginning of the End (Checkmate)

by s_c_writ



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira has very strong feelings, Alternate Dark Sun Ending, Heavy Angst, Loosely Based on Dark Sun, M/M, Revenge, and gets his vengeance, honestly i have no idea what to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:53:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_c_writ/pseuds/s_c_writ
Summary: Kurusu Akira had taken so much through his life, so when the last true thing he had wanted for himself is ripped away, he snaps.





	Beginning of the End (Checkmate)

Akira’s eyes are locked on Goro’s from across the room as he catches the king piece easily, but all the words he needs to say get lodged in his throat, anguish clear on his face as he processes exactly what the broken boy had done. The crimson-eyed detective gives him a sad smile as the gate slams shut, and something inside Akira snaps, irreparably breaking. He surges forward and slams his fists against the wall, an agonized scream bubbling up and out as an impossible amount of gunshots go off, undoubtedly ripping through the flesh of the boy he loves. His entire body trembles and his legs feel like they’re about to collapse underneath him as a part of him dies with Goro behind that wall. 

The hail of bullets finally goes silent, but there’s no more reaction from the leader of the Phantom Thieves. While Ann and Futaba are crying and Ryuji is cursing, he goes deathly silent. The cold metal against his forehead is leeching all the warmth from his body, and he welcomes it, fingers clenched so tightly around the king piece that his fingers might snap in half. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes against the storm threatening to overwhelm him, shoulders curled in against the onslaught of agony raining down upon him.

Akechi Goro had sacrificed himself for their sake, and Akira will never forget the look of pure longing in his eyes during his final moments, the crimson swimming with things that should have been said more, promises that can no longer be kept. A few more moments of fighting the raging storm, and Akira stands, his legs stronger than he could’ve imagined. His mind has been made up. Proper retribution will be made. He makes no sound as he turns and makes to leave the boiler room, completely ignoring his teammates in favor of shimmying his way out and up to the main entrance hall. 

The lavish and grandiose decor that used to make Akira stand in awe now makes him seethe with the injustice of the entire situation. He strides through the main hallway, steely and cold eyes locked on the door to unlock the main Diet chambers. All the letters fit perfectly, as he knew they would, and without a sound, he tucks the king piece into his breast pocket before turning his back on the golden elevator and shoving past the startled cognitions on his way to the nearest safe room. 

Futaba tries to speak with him as he’s activating the Meta-Nav, but nothing registers beyond the roaring in his ears, and he looks straight through her. His eyes are empty slates, and the sight alone is enough to make the rest of his team back off and stop asking questions. The ship’s interior warps away into the increasingly-familiar sight of the Tokyo Diet building, and despite his usual self-control with showing emotion, Akira finds himself sneering at the distant columns, the pure hatred clear on his face for the rest of the Phantom Thieves to see. 

He doesn’t pause for niceties, only orders that everyone be present the next day on time. If they aren’t, he will be going in alone to face Shido, and he has zero problem doing that. The raven-haired boy vaguely registers that his friends’ faces show honest fear and worry, but nothing cuts through the red haze clouding his vision. He turns and stalks off before Morgana can make his way into his bag, but he finds he doesn’t particularly care. Not right now, not today, not anymore. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to care about anything again, not after everything that has happened in the past two hours. 

Fittingly enough, it’s raining as he completely bypasses the train station and makes to walk home, his clothes and hair getting completely drenched within seconds. Akira doesn’t bother pulling out his umbrella, choosing to instead relish in the feeling of something other than the agony clawing apart his insides. Arsene is restless in his chest, no doubt in his own kind of pain without Loki or Robin Hood, and that only succeeds in settling the trickster’s resolve. 

His walk takes him past a diner he and Goro would come to so they could be together without Futaba or Sojiro’s prying eyes and ears, and his feet stop him just by the door. The lights are off and the door locked, but Akira’s mind is overtaken by a memory of sunshine and hope, phantom touches on his wrist and fingers where Goro had shyly made contact as they spoke and walked together. They had shared their first kiss in the alleyway beside the diner, hidden in the shadows from prying eyes, too wrapped up in each other and their love to worry about the damp surroundings. Akira remembers the detective’s eyes twinkling in the dim lighting, lips curled into a sweet smile as he broke away from their kiss to tease him, gentle in his ribbing.

_You chose one hell of a place to confess, Aki-kun. You’re lucky I love you too, or I wouldn’t have stood for such a crime._

He’s roughly dragged out of the memory by a passerby that jostles his shoulder in his haste to get out of the rain. Instead of his usual patience, Akira’s lip curls up in distaste and his hands clench into fists. The only thing that keeps him from pursuing the man is the sudden crash of lightning that lights the streets up in pure white, shocking him out of his rage. The thunder that follows convinces him to pick up the pace a little in his walk back to Leblanc, but he’s in absolutely no rush to face either of the Sakuras. 

Akira makes a pit stop in Shibuya at the Velvet Room and blatantly ignores the Twin Wardens’ anxious glances as he sacrifices most of his personas to grant Arsene an ungodly amount of strength. His final task for the girls is to summon Metatron, wordlessly handing over what is most of the gathered money from their forays into Mementos and various Palaces as payment. As soon as the new mask settles into him and he feels the raw power join Arsene's, his jaw sets. He continues ignoring the twins’ warnings and Igor’s knowing stare as he forces himself back into the cold, wet streets, and then he’s walking again. There’s purpose within him now, and nothing will stop him from achieving his goal, not even the will of mystical beings.

The streets of Yongen-Jaya are dark and cold, and Akira blends into the shadows as he moves soundlessly towards Leblanc in the rain. His plan of walking back from the Diet building in order to avoid Sojiro seems to have worked out, as all the windows are dark and the door is locked when he tests it. After fishing the key from his bag, he lets himself into the silent cafe before closing the door behind him and switching the lock, the sound deafening in the still air, even despite the roaring of blood in his ears.

Food isn’t even entertained as a possibility as he makes his way upstairs, stripping off his sopping clothes on the way. He pulls the king piece from his pocket and settles it carefully on the dark windowsill before throwing the laundry over the railing to dry and pulling on pajamas. His bag gets thrown somewhere in the general area of the lumpy old couch, and within a mere minute of arriving back to the place that has been his home over the past few months, Akira is laying down under his blanket, grey eyes staring unseeingly at the dark, dusty rafters above him. 

The image of Goro’s final, sorrowful smile is burned into his retinas, and the memory replays over and over in his mind, torturing him with the thing he had feared the most--being separated. Goro had let Akira in on the orders he had received from Shido one late night when the two were curled together in the attic above Leblanc under the raven-haired boy’s blanket, a month or two into their relationship. He distinctly remembers the sound of his boyfriend’s sobs muffled by his shoulder as he poured out the entire truth, slender fingers clutching the front of Akira’s shirt as he begged him to help save himself. Not even the shock that Goro was a murderer and the one behind the mental shutdowns and psychotic breaks could rupture the love he held. 

He remembers bundling the boy closer and promising him that they would find a way out, sealing it with a warm kiss to the crown of Goro’s head, even as his own stomach churned with the knowledge that he was wanted as a dead man by one of the most powerful men in the country.

After the proud, sharp detective had helped the Phantom Thieves, and especially Akira, outwit Shido and the police to escape the interrogation room with Sae, Akira had held out hope that they could finish this last mission together. He never thought it would be Goro sacrificing himself for the sake of the Phantom Thieves in the end. 

With a wry smile, Akira realizes that yes, with the closing of that bulkhead, the end had truly begun. Every moment with Goro had felt new, hopeful, like a gentle spring rain cascading down their faces, and with the knowledge that he was truly gone, Akira was surrounded and overtaken in a jagged, frozen wasteland by himself. It was up to him to finish the game tomorrow, to bring about true justice in the world.

Unbridled fury sparks a fire in his chest and he bites back a sob, gritting his teeth against the sudden, overwhelming onslaught of emotion. Phantom touches torture him as he remembers how it felt to hold Goro and be held, to kiss and be kissed, to love and be loved right back. Hot, angry tears stream down the sides of his face, and he shakes with the effort of staying silent. The king piece casts a shadow across his face from where it sits, backlit by the wavering moonlight. He reaches up and wraps trembling fingers around it and lets his hand rest against his chest, the other coming up to cover his mouth to muffle any sound as his eyes slip closed and he cries with abandon. His entire body shakes with the force, and he cries until he’s nauseous and lightheaded, throat raw from stifling his cries.

Time seems to both stand still and fly by as it all comes flooding out, but after what could be anywhere between a few seconds and many hours, the tears trickle out, and all the agony seeps out of him, leaving nothing but cold emptiness and firm resolve in its wake. His arm relaxes and falls away from his face, but the king piece stays nestled against his heart, even as his eyes glaze over, trained at the rafters criss-crossing above him.

Akira doesn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night, just stares blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, until he hears Sojiro arrive downstairs and start preparing for the day. He isn’t bothered by anyone until well into the morning when Futaba arrives with Morgana, and they come thumping up the stairs. The two are livid, howling and yelling at him for leaving him behind in the rain and causing them to worry, failing to notice that their leader doesn’t sit up, much less take any sort of notice of their presence until they’re done with their tirade. They try to engage with him, but Akira simply turns over and puts his back to them, effectively blocking out the hurt looks they’re shooting his way as they return back downstairs to speak with Sojiro.

Once it’s finally time for everyone’s classes to let out, Akira drags himself up and into clothing, his movements robotic even as he carefully places the glittering black game piece into his pocket. He heads downstairs and completely bypasses his confidants, not even sparing a sideways glance as he pushes through the door and into the backstreets, his hood already pulled up over his face. Futaba and Morgana silently follow him to the station, but they both give him a wide berth. His eyes are cold and hard, welcoming no small talk, and his scowl is deep enough to drive away even the most persistent chatter.

Upon arrival to the Diet building, Akira remains silent, waiting only seconds from when everyone finally arrives until he activates the Meta-Nav, tossing them straight onto the deck of the cruiser. Makoto’s quiet call of his name is ignored in favor of moving right for the gilded elevator, the rest of the team having to hurry after him and pack into the small space to not be left behind. The power of his personas pulses through his veins, and his lips quirk up into a savage grin, confident in his new ability. His teammates look away, unnerved by his cold and cruel demeanor, but follow him into the main meeting hall regardless.

Shido is there, but Akira is in no mood to waste time on idle chatting. He strides down the aisle towards the Palace ruler, blue flames beginning to lick around his feet and shoulders until they completely envelop him. His two exceptionally powerful personas erupt out of the flames together, their wings spreading wide. Arsene lets out an inhuman howl, the flames rising slightly as his voice does. The leader of the Phantom Thieves feels his smile widen at the obvious shock and fear radiating off everyone in the room, and his pupils contract as he zeroes in on the transforming demon in front of him, the one that ripped Goro away from him.

Now mounted on his golden chariot, Shido faces Akira, Yusuke, Morgana, and Makoto, but his sights are trained on the dual-wielding leader. Akira’s smile has turned manic, and he laughs wildly as Metatron and Arsene attack in tandem. They create a deadly dance of swords and curses, honed in on the abomination in front of them. Their master’s rage and anguish fuel them, and no words have to pass between them and Akira for blows to strike again and again, or for Metatron to block any attack sent towards his master with his massive wings. 

A blow from Arsene forces Shido to transform again, morphing into a disgusting mass of pulsing muscle that the other Phantom Thieves are intimidated by, but Akira merely cackles at, his eyes wide, grin absolutely manic. He leaps out of the way of every blow, dancing around Shido’s hulking form. His dagger creates dripping gashes every time he lunges in, but not a hair on his head is harmed, both from his own wild dexterity and his personas taking the hits for him without flinching. The Palace ruler is furious, single-mindedly focused on Akira now, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves are essentially benched as the battle morphs into something even more savage, Shido evolving once more into a disgusting mass of vanity and pure strength.

Akira lets out a wild laugh and spreads his arms wide, Metatron and Arsene following and mimicking his movements with their flaming wings. His hair and coat billow outwards with cold flame, and not even a heartbeat passes before Metatron’s sword comes down, cloaked in Arsene’s curses, burning red and black. 

The single hit is marked by an agonized cry and a burst of black as Shido is forced down and into a normal human form with the one blow, collapsing onto his knees in the center of the room. Arsene howls in rage, his blue fire turning black in a single second, and Metatron stays silent, cloaked in his own furnace of obsidian flames that travels down and envelops Akira’s lithe form.

The Phantom Thieves rush forward as their leader moves towards the defeated politician, smoothly drawing his gun. The cold barrel pushes against the skin of the Palace ruler’s forehead, and Akira relishes in the terror sparking in Shido’s eyes before turning back towards his outraged teammates. Something in his expression halts them all, and his grin only widens, silver eyes glinting behind his flaming mask.

“Leave now, or go down with me.”

Ryuji starts to shout at him to protest, but Akira turns his back and faces Shido again, who has started sobbing and begging for his life. He sneers and shoves the politician backwards with his gun until he’s laying on the ground, staring straight down the barrel with Akira standing over him, pure hatred and released fury apparent in his gaze.

“Checkmate.”

Somewhere behind him, the Phantom Thieves are fleeing before the ship begins to break down, but nothing matters to him anymore as he pulls the trigger and plants a bullet between Shido’s eyes. There’s no blood, only ash, as the man dissolves into the floorboards and puts an end to the entire thing.

Within seconds, the entire cruiser is shuddering and beginning to collapse, but Akira calmly walks over to one of the benches and sits heavily, his gun still smoking as he tosses it behind him. He pulls a crimson glove off with his teeth and reaches into his pocket to unveil the glimmering black king piece. Held in his bare hand like a piece of fine china, it reflects the light of Arsene and Metatron hovering above him, and Akira can do nothing but allow himself to cry once more and mourn for what he had lost.

A phantom presence materializes beside him and wraps around him, filling his heart and head with simultaneous, contradicting peace and anguish. A sweet scent passes through his nose, and the ghost of everything he ever wanted stays with him like a promise, a warm weight resting against his side, even while the ship around him crumbles. Akira smiles quietly to himself and closes his fingers around the chess piece, bringing it to rest against his chest as he closes his eyes and leans back against the seat, letting his head fall back. The mask slips from his face and clatters against the ground, cracking in half, but it doesn’t affect the two winged personas. They kneel on either side of their master and the glimmering image of the boy he loved and wrap their wings like a cocoon as the ship around them explodes from the bottom up, engulfing them all in flames.

The remaining Phantom Thieves, from a boat some distance away from the flaming wreckage, are shaken and horrified. Yusuke’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears as Futaba and Haru sob openly into his shoulders. Ann is sitting in complete shock, a hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Ryuji is cursing and crying, his shoulders shaking as he drives the heels of his hands against his eyes, and Makoto has silent tears obscuring her vision as she keeps a hold of a howling Morgana’s handkerchief and steers the boat away while activating the Meta-Nav to take them away from the destruction and into a world where nothing would ever be the same. The last they see is the roaring ball of flames finally succumb to the weight of the ocean and disappear, taking a shattered Kurusu Akira with it.

**Author's Note:**

> heh. hi. thank you for reading! let me know your thoughts/opinions below <3 <3


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